Ghost
by dreamsofhim
Summary: How can a relationship with Grissom be worse than longing for one? Sara insists on an answer. When Grissom complies, the words ‘Be careful what you wish for,’ prove true.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** How can a relationship with Grissom be worse than longing for one? Sara insists on an answer. When Grissom complies, the words _'Be careful what you wish for,'_ prove true.

**Timeline:** Takes place during CSI Season Six. Minor spoilers for _Still Life, Daddy's Little Girl, Kiss Kiss Bye Bye,_ and _Pirates of the Third Reich._

**Disclaimer:** Nope, not mine. No silver has crossed my palm, either.

**A/N:** Sincere thanks to **csishewolf**, **brandie**, **dirtyvirgin**, and **csinut214** for their thoughtful comments during the writing of this story. Your suggestions made this story richer, when you could get me to take your advice…_BWAHahahahaha_. Officially unbetaed. Many eyes have sifted through these words, but mistakes are my own.

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

He didn't call. He promised he would call.

Once upon a time, her fantasy was that she and Grissom would get together, make love, and the way before them would be clear. All the waiting would be over. No more longing for his touch, his voice, his tender attention. It would be better…it would be wonderful. How could it be worse?

It all started on a not-quite-date in late winter. The gang had planned to meet at Franks Coffee Shop for breakfast: one by one everyone but Grissom and Sara dropped out. They sat in the little booth – tiny even, meant for two – making brittle conversation about work. Eventually talk dribbled down to nothing and they were left in uncomfortable silence. Somewhere around their third cups of coffee Grissom shook himself mentally and relaxed, taking Sara in for the first time. He looked into her eyes and smiled, "Let's get out of here, shall we?"

There was such presence to the man. Sara could hold her own with anyone, yet with him she practically struggled for breath. Was it love that stole her clarity? The feelings that burned through her at his slightest touch? Years of longing stirred the mix until she lost her ability to focus, her brain fogged and floundering. He caught her completely unaware when he kissed her in the parking lot, "May I take you home?"

After that, time spun out as years of tension exploded in flying clothes and seeking mouths.

She hadn't meant to, but she'd said she loved him. As soon as the words left her lips something shifted in his eyes. The mood was broken. Even though they'd made love again that morning, he'd left while she was sleeping. Sara woke wondering if she could live with getting her heart's desire.

He'd always arrive on her doorstep unannounced. She would invite him in, unable to resist him standing there looking faintly sheepish. They would make small talk for five, maybe ten minutes, and then his eyes would shift into the hungry expression that melted her insides. Things would get hazy after that as they came together, devouring one another. Sometimes they'd nap a little afterwards, but usually he would withdraw once his breathing slowed, muttering something about why he had to leave or that he'd call her later. He'd kiss her forehead and then be gone.

In the weeks since they'd been together, she'd fought to explain his behavior and failing that, excuse it. This was Grissom, an enigma wrapped in the skin of a man. Part of her knew she would never understand the whys of him. She thought she could handle it – could have if only he'd given her _something_. How could he still be holding her at arm's length when they shared a bed four or five times a week? Some days she felt like a sponge, aching to absorb even the tiniest bit of him – years of thirst took a long time to quench. When she caught herself crying into her pillow each time he left, she realized the dream was broken. Having him but not having him…even she could not wait this out.

Sara thought of herself as a 'glass half full' person. When she finally let herself look at the cup he'd given her, it was half full all right…full of dust. She had to let go, let him go. It was the only way she'd survive.

>>>>>

Sara had just gotten home when she heard a soft knock on her door. She turned and frowned.

Grissom. Had to be.

Not today.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. Grissom looked up at the movement, meeting her gaze with a questioning look. He smiled slightly. "Hey," he said.

"Hi, Grissom…come on in."

He knew something was up. For a man so bad at relationships, his antennae were long sometimes. Sara watched him cross to the couch and sit down, sighing when he looked at her again. Her eyes widened; it had almost sounded like a sigh of relief.

Shoving some magazines and journals out of her way, she sat directly across from him on the coffee table.

When she didn't speak right away, he did. "You need to talk to me, don't you, Sara?"

After a startled pause, she said, "Yes."

All he said was, "OK."

He retreated into himself then. She realized this was going to be like climbing a mountain of glass – long and hard, with no places to rest. _"Oh, Grissom,"_ she thought, _"How am I ever going to say goodbye to you?"_ All her rehearsed speeches flew out of her head, leaving only the reason she needed them: this hurt too much…it hurt more than she loved him.

"What am I going to say, Griss?" she asked.

There was no guardrail on her heart yet, so when his ocean eyes pierced her she nearly fell, but she managed to pull herself back this time.

"You're going to tell me you can't do this anymore," he said quietly.

Words failed her utterly. All she could do was nod.

He stood suddenly, nearly knocking her off her perch on the coffee table. "Forgive me, Sara. I was weak. I didn't mean to hurt you."

His hand was on the doorknob, turning it to free himself, when he heard her voice behind him, "Why did you?"

Tension in the room was off the scale with all the unsaid words and unexpressed feelings. He stopped where he was, turning to look at her over his shoulder.

"Why did you hurt me? You're not that kind of man."

"Sara…I…I have to go. I do love you."

She managed to cross the few steps to the door, placing her hand on his shoulder. "You love me? You're kidding, right? This is how you treat someone you love? Take what you want, giving nothing in return?"

He bent his head to brush his cheek lightly against her hand, then turned to face her wrath. "Yes."

Sara looked at him in disbelief. What was he saying?

"Look, I don't know what else to say. I should go," he said, but his eyes were unguarded…waiting.

"So that's it? You're just going to run?"

He didn't speak. He looked away and waited for her to release him.

"This isn't you, Grissom. You're not a coward. What is it?"

"Leave it alone, Sara."

"No, Grissom."

_Just over a year ago he'd been the one pushing her to let go. She'd managed to do it, why couldn't he? How long could he stand on the edge like this?_

"Don't do this," she said. "Don't make it all for nothing."

"Why, Sara? Give it up," he whispered.

"Well, I think you owe me. You said you loved me. Explain to me why two people who love each other can't share more than a bed, and why something we both seem to want should hurt so much."

He was quiet a long time. "I don't know if I can," he said finally.

She stopped herself from caressing his cheek. "When you can, I will listen."

He disappeared down the hall leaving a tiny bit of hope between them.

>>>>>

Grissom listened to the same song over and over. He knew his neighbors must be sick of it but he needed to hear it more than they needed relief. The tune had caught him by chance on the radio one day many years ago. Sort of upbeat…snappy even…but toward the end, the lyrics grabbed him so hard he had to pull his car over:

_That's when it hit me  
__It's the things you love the most  
__You end up pushing away  
__And it ain't the times you lose  
__It's the dreams coming true  
__That make you most afraid._

After work he'd gone out and found the album: Larry John McNally. _"Never heard of him,"_ he'd thought. In the years since those words had risen in his mind a hundred times, almost always when he wanted something badly and was terrified of losing it. The truth in them gave him courage in the face of fear. Now they came to mind when he thought of Sara and what a tangled up mess he'd made of that.

He was past the precipice, at least – he was in free fall, having made his choice. Taking a sip of his drink, Grissom looked down at the journal in his lap, scanning the handwritten text for clues…this all seemed so far away…yet he could remember writing these entries and the events that prompted them. The details were clear, it was the meaning he was having trouble with.

>>>>>

Days passed and Sara wondered if Grissom would ever mention their last conversation. She was sure he wanted to tell her something…several times he'd looked about to speak before turning abruptly and retreating to his office. She was curious, certainly, but the freedom she felt from the weight of their non-relationship was sweet; she had no desire to pursue it or him. Grissom knew what he had to do – he would either do it or not. Sara still felt sad, but she could go on now. Smiling a little at that new understanding she pushed through the door into the locker room.

It wasn't until she closed the locker, adjusting her jacket to sit properly, that she saw the envelope on the floor. Her name was written on the front in Grissom's firm hand. Staring at it like it was some exotic thing instead of a simple #10 envelope, Sara sat on the bench between the lockers. _"I can't do this here,"_ she thought, letting her fingertips glide over the smooth paper. She folded the note quickly and stuffed it into her back pocket.

Once in her car, she ripped it open and took out the paper inside.

_Sara,_

_If you are still willing to listen, call me._

_Grissom_

She pulled out her phone and speed dialed his number.

"Grissom," he answered.

"I'm still willing to listen," she said.

"Can you meet me tonight? We both have the night off."

"OK," she answered. "Where?"

"My place? 7 o'clock?"

"OK. I'll see you then," she said and hung up.

Grissom closed his phone and let out a breath.

>>>>>

The hours crawled for both of them. Sara debated whether she really needed to put herself through this, deciding to scrap the meeting a dozen times before getting in her car and driving to his townhouse. Grissom tried to distract himself by reading a new journal, but his old ones, the ones stacked neatly on the coffee table, kept whispering his name – forcing him to pick them up to reread marked passages. The understanding that had made him leave that note for Sara didn't seem quite so clear now.

As it had so often over the past several days, a little Wild Turkey helped take the edge off. Settling on the couch, wrapped in words from the past, he sipped and reflected until soft knocking on the door interrupted his reading.

"Hi, Sara," he said, stepping back to let her in.

"Hey."

He indicated she should sit on the love seat under the window. As she made herself comfortable, he asked, "Can I get you anything?"

"No thanks," she said, looking up at him uneasily.

He went to the kitchen island and fixed himself another drink. Turning back to her, he wondered how to start this. No answers were revealed as he swirled the liquid around in his glass. "Are you sure I can't get you something?" he said, vamping for time.

"No, Grissom…I'm good."

Crossing to the love seat, he sat at the far end and set his glass down on the coffee table. "I don't have people in my house that often."

Sara watched him search for words and wondered if he was going to be able to do this. The man she knew at work was confidently able to deal with complete strangers: suspects, law enforcement personnel, witnesses; that was the trouble – he moved easily on that stage but not this one, with her.

"You know, I don't usually examine my motivations…my path has been set for a long time, Sara," he said heavily. "But, I've made some terrible mistakes with you…and you were right when you said I'm not that kind of man. I'm thoughtless sometimes but I'm not cruel."

Sara said, "I know that."

He looked at her, questioning, "Do you? I did take what I needed from you. The things I said to you the other day were heartless."

"I still want to know why, Grissom. I get that you have regrets…help me understand why you did all that."

He took a deep breath and tried to order his thoughts. "Why do you think it's so unusual for me to have people here?"

Sara thought a moment and said, "Well, I always assumed you were very private."

"Good guess, but wrong. I've always spent a lot of time alone. I like it...I read, I study. I don't think about it much…it's just the way I am. But I do keep people out purposely, Sara, and that isn't how I am, it's how I've chosen to be. There's a difference."

"OK," she said.

"Why did I make that choice? That's what I want to explain to you."

Grissom leaned forward and took a journal from the stack in front of Sara. It was a hard bound composition book, the type school children used to use. "I started keeping a journal when I was nine years old. Mom had done it when she was a girl. The summer my dad died she encouraged me to write about it…to write down my memories of him."

"I'm sorry, Grissom," she said, a little shocked at this revelation.

"Thanks," he said, absently. "I should also tell you my mom is deaf…lost her hearing when she was eight. That's why I know how to sign."

Sara now had two important pieces of information about Grissom. _"This explains a lot,"_ she thought, looking at him there, cradling the book in his hands. She noticed the muscles in his jaw were knotting and unknotting.

"Do you want to stop?" she asked.

He glanced at her thankfully, but said, "No…I want to do this, Sara. This is my new choice."

"OK."

Opening the journal, he rifled through several pages until he found the one he wanted. She could see it was filled edge to edge with penciled text and diagrams. "That was the same year I started doing necropsies on animals and birds I found on the beach. When Dad died, I tried to learn about death. He'd taught me about science…he was a botanist…and I was trying to understand what happened," he said, passing the book to her, indicating a passage she should read.

_"Sister Mary Patrick talked about souls in religion class today. She said you can't see somebody's soul when they're alive. It goes to Heaven when you die. I asked do animals have souls. She said not. I asked her what keeps animals alive then. She got kind of mad and wouldn't answer me. Dad told me about the scientific method. He said you use it to prove things with experiments, even things you can't see. Like that time he showed me about balloons and air and how you can't see air but it's there and you can prove it's there when you blow up a balloon. I don't know about souls, though. I don't know how to make experiments to prove where souls go or if animals have them. I really miss Dad."_

"Asking the big questions, even then," she said, handing the book back to him.

"I started to rely on myself more when Dad died. It wasn't a conscious choice. I kept trying to get people to explain what happened to him, but no one would tell me. Mom wouldn't talk about it, the nuns at school wouldn't say anything other than he was in Heaven…there wasn't anyone else. I figured the best way to find out what I wanted to know was to read science books and do experiments. Like Dad showed me."

"To follow the evidence," she smiled.

"Yeah. It just so happened I was really good at it…the science. There was always some fact or theory just around the corner…"

Sara said, "I felt that way in high school…I filled up my life with it."

Grissom looked up at that, a whiff of their old camaraderie filling the space between them, draining the anxiety he'd been struggling with.

"Exactly. I had a few friends I still played ball with, but I spent more and more time chasing science. Eventually, science was all there was."

"High school must have been rough," she said.

"I was a ghost. I went because I had to. All my other time was spent hanging out at the L.A. Coroner's office. I was sort of an unofficial intern…I helped them out whenever they had a case that involved animals. I'd dissected so many, I'd taught myself a lot by this time. That's where I met Phillip Gerard."

Sara frowned, "So you said."

"He wasn't always like that, Sara. In those days he spent a lot of time with me, showed me things…let me help out around the lab. He was a good guy. I don't know what happened to him after I left L.A."

Grissom got up then to freshen his drink and give himself time to think about the next journal, "Want anything?"

"Water?" she asked.

Once he'd poured himself another bourbon, he got a bottle of water out of the fridge and handed it to her. He sat back down on the couch and picked up the next journal on the stack.

"I wrote this the summer I turned sixteen. I've marked some passages…it'll make more sense if you read the entries and ask questions after, OK?" he said, handing her the spiral bound notebook.

She took it gingerly. Remembering her own diaries and hoping it wasn't about a violent trauma, she asked, "What am I going to be reading about, Grissom?"

"A girl," he said simply.

She looked at him curiously, "A girl?"

"Yeah…a girl. Read."

>>>>>

_Lyrics to 'Just Like Paradise' – ©1981 by Larry John McNally_

* * *

_**To Be Continued… Chapters 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 to follow shortly.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary:** How can a relationship with Grissom be worse than longing for one? Sara insists on an answer. When Grissom complies, the words 'Be careful what you wish for,' prove to be true.

**Timeline:** Takes place during CSI Season Six. Minor spoilers for _Still Life, Daddy's Little Girl, Kiss Kiss Bye Bye,_ and _Pirates of the Third Reich._

**Disclaimer:** Nope, not mine. No silver has crossed my palm, either.

**A/N:** Sincere thanks to **csishewolf,** **brandie**, **dirtyvirgin**, and **csinut214** for their thoughtful comments during the writing of this story. Your suggestions made this story richer, when you could get me to take your advice…_BWAHahahahaha_. Officially unbetaed. Many eyes have sifted through these words, but mistakes are my own.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO**

Opening the journal to the first marked entry, Sara peeked through a longhand window into the life of 16 year old Grissom.

>>>>>

_Thursday, June 15, 1972 – Finally got that reel-to-reel they've been holding for me at the thrift store. Needs new rollers and the heads are dirty. Even so, $50 for a Pioneer deck is a deal. Stop by Amplitude tomorrow for supplies._

>>>>>

_Friday, June 16, 1972 – Got everything I need to fix up the deck today. Found some cheap tape, too. There's a new cashier, a girl named Halyn…like Holland without the D. I didn't notice her until she smiled at me._

_She gave me a smile I could feel in my hip pocket _– _Raymond Chandler_

_We talked for a few minutes about sound – she knows a lot. I wonder if she'd give me her phone number?_

>>>>>

_Tuesday, June 20, 1972 – Stopped by Amplitude today. Halyn wasn't working. The guy I know there, Marty, told me she's 18 and sings in a band. He said she asked about me. He also said she's not dating anybody._

>>>>>

_Saturday, June 24, 1972 – Halyn was working at Amplitude today. I made up some story about needing new cables. We talked about sound some more. In fact, I stayed there over an hour. She asked me what else I do for fun besides listen to music. I told her about the Coroner's office. She thought that was cool. I never met a girl who didn't think it was gross. I didn't have the nerve to ask for her phone number._

>>>>>

_Saturday, July 1, 1972 – Halyn got a car…a beat up Ford Fairlane, but it runs. We went for a ride around the neighborhood, testing out the radio she put in it. While we were listening to some song, she asked me what I was thinking just as I was wondering what it would be like to kiss her. My face must have turned 20 shades of red – it sure felt hot. I should have expected it…she asks that a lot, I've noticed. I couldn't tell her, though. I hadn't even asked for her number yet. I just stared out the windshield with my mouth hanging open. She kept after me and finally pulled into the parking lot of Wakefield Elementary School, saying we weren't going to move until I told her, but she said it with a smile so I think maybe she knew. I finally fessed up and she said, "Would you like to find out?" I think I nodded. She slid across the seat and kissed me. A real kiss, too, not just a peck. _

_The sound of a kiss is not so loud as that of a cannon, but its echo lasts a great deal longer _– _Oliver Wendell Holmes_

_I did finally ask for her phone number. _

>>>>>

Sara looked up from the journal in her lap. "You've been doing the quote thing for a long time, huh?" she said with a grin.

Grissom smiled, a little embarrassed, "Yeah."

"How come?"

"Back then, I just couldn't think of the words for what I was feeling. But I read a lot and I remembered these quotes – they sounded so eloquent – much better than anything I could come up with, so it became a sort of shorthand. And it was easier than thinking too hard about what I was feeling."

"I see," she said. "Tell me about Holland-without-the-D…she was your first girlfriend?"

"Yes, she was," he said, pausing to remember. "She wasn't pretty, really…sort of average looking with long wavy brown hair…tall for a girl…kind of skinny. And she wore glasses. Until she smiled at me I hadn't given her a second thought…but there was something about her. Even today, 30-odd years later, I don't know what it was."

Sara listened and said nothing.

Grissom blushed and brought himself back from the past. "This is embarrassing, Sara. I'm sure you don't want to hear about my old girlfriends and I'm not too eager to share…"

"You have a reason for telling me about her, right? You're not just bragging…" she said with a hint of a grin that let him know she was still listening.

"No, Sara, I'm not bragging…my relationship with her spans almost 10 years of my life. I'd already started to keep people at a distance when I met her. She opened me up again. Taught me to see the world in a different way… Years later, when it was finally over, I shut down. That's the choice I'm trying to change. With you."

Something passed between them then…that connection they'd been struggling with for years.

"Tell me more."

"OK," he said and nodded. "I'd never met anyone remotely like her. She had this…theatricality…about her, but she was also smart as hell, interested in everything. When I talked about forensics I found out she knew a lot about anatomy and biology. She also loved astronomy, literature, photography, electronics…and she had the most unusual turn of mind – not logical at all – but she could take a tangle of data, process it somehow, and come up with interpretations that blew me away. I'd never met a peer, much less a girl, who was so interesting. I spent most of my time with adults, so she was incredibly exotic to me."

Sara laughed at this last, "I know what you mean."

"Oh, and she liked me. Girls wanted nothing to do with me, but she did. Heady stuff," he said, taking the journal back from Sara and paging through to another marked section. "This is from later that summer."

>>>>>

_Sunday, August 27, 1972 – Spent the day at Halyn's. We listened to records out in her garage. She has every album Bread ever made. I keep thinking she'll wear the grooves off them eventually. I don't know how she can know the lead guitar in 'Make It With You' is a Gibson…I can't hear it. Stradivarius violins are prized for exceptional tonal quality, though, so there must be something to it. Wonder if anyone has done a study about tone from different makes of guitar?_

>>>>>

_Tuesday, August 29, 1972 – We ended up on the chaise lounge again. I wanted to but Halyn was afraid. I told her I had protection. She ended up crying…I wasn't pressuring her, I wouldn't do that. Going all the way is a really big deal for a girl._

_Does she understand the lyrics of the songs we listen to? They're all about sex. Our song…'Make It With You'…I used to think it was prophetic. I really want to make love to her, maybe get married some day when I'm through school. I love her. I want to spend all my time with her, but I always come home and spend a long time in the bathroom. Mom thinks I've got a stomach problem. I even layed out of my duties at the Coroner's last week. I've never done that before._

_Sex is full of lies. The body tries to tell the truth. But, it's usually too battered with rules to be heard, and bound with pretenses so it can hardly move. We cripple ourselves_ _with lies –Jim Morrison_

>>>>>

"You sound a little bitter there, Griss," Sara said when she read the Morrison quote.

"Not bitter. Frustrated. I don't think anyone necks for weeks or months now…but we did. All that summer," he said, shaking his head a little.

Sara looked back at the page before her. Raising an eyebrow, she said, "Stomach problem?"

"Yeah, Mom was sure something was wrong with me. I finally lied and told her I'd talked to one of the docs at the lab. Clearly she had no idea what I was doing in there. I wasn't going to tell her the truth, though I have to say, it's hard to lie to someone who is expert at sign. So much depends on interpretation of body language…"

"You don't think she ever figured it out?"

"Oh, she probably did. We moved to a new apartment early in the school year. I had my own bathroom for the first time. I was relieved."

"What happened with Halyn?"

He moved closer to her on the couch, turning pages in the notebook as it lay in her lap. "Here," he said, "this is from around Christmas that year."

>>>>>

_Monday, December 4, 1972 – Dr. Gerard offered me a paying position at the Coroner's office. It'll only be 10 hours a week – he doesn't want to interfere with my school – but it's a job. For money. I can't wait to tell Halyn._

>>>>>

_Wednesday, December 13, 1972 – Stopped by Amplitude to see Halyn. Haven't been able to get together for a week or two. She was real busy and couldn't talk. We're planning to see each other over break._

>>>>>

_Friday, December 22, 1972 – Called Halyn from school this afternoon, thinking we could meet…go for a ride maybe. She said she had some good news. I thought she'd gotten an apartment or something. She's been talking about that._

_She told me she's getting married. To Hank Gallagher, the lead guitar in her band. _

_I didn't know what to say. I was on a pay phone at school, so I couldn't really ask her what I wanted. Why? What about us? What about ME? Thankfully it was 5th period and I had study hall and gym, and then the day was over. I thought about stopping by Amplitude to see if Marty could fill me in…I knew Halyn wasn't working today, but what would be the point? What happened? I still love her._

_She sounded so happy and wanted me to be happy, too. I told her I was and hung up._

_Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation –__Kahlil Gibran_

>>>>>

"Oh, no…married? What happened?" Sara asked, puzzled.

"Well, we sort of drifted apart once school started. I was busy with homework and my job at the Coroner's office, so Halyn and I couldn't see each other as much as we had in the summer.

"She'd graduated the previous June. She was 18, remember? There was no money for her to go to college so she was trying save enough to move out of the house. Her mom was an alcoholic – a mean one. She told me once that her mom walked in on her in the shower one day and just started pounding on her. Halyn was desperate to get out of there," he said quietly.

Sara nodded, understanding, "So getting married got her out."

"I think so, although I didn't put it together until much later. At the time I just threw myself into my classes and my Coroner's office job and tried not to think about her."

Sara coughed and said, "Hank?"

"I was wondering if you'd catch that. I _hate_ that name," he said, though he was clearly amused.

Leaning into him with a smirk, Sara bumped him with her shoulder, "It's not my favorite, either."

Grissom smiled and said, "Good to know." He took the notebook from her lap, closed it and set it aside before picking up the leather bound journal which lay on top of the stack. As he opened the book looking for a marked passage, he glanced at her over the top of his glasses, "Now we fast forward several years to 1976. I was a junior in college, living off-campus…an elderly lady, Mrs. Walker, rented me the top floor of her house for $75.00 a month. I had quiet for studying, a place to do my experiments and keep my insects."

"Didn't she ever complain about the smell?" Sara asked, thinking about the unpleasant surprises she'd found in the Lab refrigerator, compliments of Grissom's curiosity.

"No, actually, she had cats…lots of cats."

"Oh."

>>>>>

_Wednesday, September 29, 1976 – Came home from classes today to find Halyn sitting on my porch. I still don't know what to think. It was a shock to see her again._

_The first thing I said was, "How did you find me?" She laughed and said she looked me up in the phone book. I know my face went red. I felt like an idiot._

_When I asked her why she was here she said she'd been thinking about me and wanted to see how I was doing. I told her I was fine. We made small talk for a few minutes…it was very awkward…then she left._ _She looks just the same. She looked great._

_I thought I was past this. I may not be looking for baby blue VWs anymore, but I haven't forgotten._

>>>>>

Sara looked up from the page she was reading. "Baby blue VWs?"

"I sort of kept up with Halyn for awhile after we broke up, mostly through Marty at _Amplitude_. I knew, for example, that she'd had a baby and that she was working as an audio engineer for some recording studio. When I heard about the baby, I thought that was that.

"So, I dated a few girls in my last year of high school. I even managed to have sex a few times. Then, one day I saw them, the whole family, piled into a baby blue Volkswagen beetle. Suddenly she was on my mind again. I thought I'd gotten over her, but I caught myself looking for light blue VWs everywhere I went. That confused me, so I worked harder and studied harder until I stopped thinking about her. Then she showed up on my doorstep."

He reached over and turned a page of the journal.

>>>>>

_Thursday, October 7, 1976 – Halyn left a message for me at the Coroner's office. She wants me to call her. What's going on?_

>>>>>

"Did you call her?" Sara asked.

"No!"

"Why not? You must have been curious."

Grissom flipped several pages in the book on Sara's lap. "She was married. I was seeing the aftermath of romantic triangles every other day at the Coroner's office. I decided I didn't want to know, but I found out soon enough."

>>>>>

_Sunday, October 24, 1976 – Halyn knocked on my door at 2 o'clock this morning. I was half asleep when I let her in. She had the funniest look on her face, then I realized she was high. I sat her down on the couch and fixed her some coffee, hoping I could get her lucid enough to tell me why she was here._

_Turns out she'd just finished a gig and had a contact high from grass the audience was smoking. It didn't take long to get her straightened out. She was pretty embarrassed. I told her it was okay, everybody needs a place to crash once in awhile._

_She was almost out the door when she turned to me and said, "I've been thinking about you a lot, Gil. I've missed you." I've thought about her and missed her, too, but I couldn't tell her that. When I didn't answer her she looked at me for the longest time. I don't know what she wanted me to say._

>>>>>

_Monday, October 25, 1976 – Dropped by Amplitude this afternoon hoping to find Marty on duty. He's the manager now. I was going to ask him about Halyn, but he brought her up himself._

_She and Hank split up in February. They've already filed for divorce. Marty said it was kind of ugly…Hank is trying to get custody of their son and causing all sorts of trouble. Halyn has moved back home. Her mom is watching her little boy, Jeffrey, during the day and when Halyn has gigs. I'm sure Halyn is hating that. She despises her mother, or at least, she used to._

_I asked Marty why they split up. He said Hank couldn't stay home and Halyn had finally had enough._

_This puts a new face on things._

>>>>>

_Wednesday, November 3, 1976 – Left a message with Mrs. Weaver for Halyn to call me. Ever since I found out about her divorce I've been thinking about her. I've never met anyone else like her and if I am honest, I have to say I am still half in love with her. I used to wish things could have been different. Maybe now they can be._

_Where there is great love, there are always wishes –__Willa Cather_

>>>>>

_Thursday, November 4, 1976 – Halyn called tonight. We talked for two hours, a record for me. I told her I'd seen Marty. All she said was, "Then you know." I said that yes, I knew she was getting a divorce. Things had not worked out the way she thought they would. She said it was worse than when she'd been trapped at home. I asked how things were going with that…with her mom. Apparently Mrs. Weaver has joined AA and is sober at least, which is the only reason Halyn is able to stay there._

_Once we got recent events out of the way it was as if no time had passed since the last time we talked like this. I know we discussed the current issue of Scientific American for 30 minutes. She wanted to hear about my classes and about things at the Coroner's office. I asked about her job as an audio engineer, which sounds like an interesting profession. Lots of research potential._

_I asked if she'd like to go out sometime. I don't know where that came from. She said yes. We're going out to dinner next Thursday night._

>>>>>

_Thursday, November 11, 1976 – Took Halyn to Steak and Ale for dinner. I realized as we were ordering that this was our first real date. She looked so pretty in the candlelight. I had the oddest sensation of being in two times at once…the present and years ago when we first knew each other. It was like double exposed film and the overlay was slightly out of sync._

_At one point she looked at me and asked what I was thinking. She got me again, although this time I told her I was remembering what it was like to kiss her. She surprised me by blushing and that made me laugh. Used to be, she always had the upper hand, but it looks like that's different now._

_Halyn seemed nervous as we got near her house until she finally asked me if I wondered what it might be like to kiss her now. I said yes and she showed me._

_A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous –Ingrid Bergman_

>>>>>

_Saturday, November 13, 1976 – Halyn came by at 2 o'clock after her gig tonight. I'd just gotten in from my body farm and was on my way to a shower. When I came out of the bathroom she wasn't in the living room. I found her sitting on the end of my bed. Didn't know quite what to say, so I stood in the doorway waiting for her to say something. She started to unbutton her shirt and held out her hand to me. Suddenly I was there beside her, wanting her, touching her, having her._

_Words fail me._

>>>>>

Sara sat back on the couch and looked at Grissom. "So Halyn was back, almost divorced with a little one in tow. How old was her son then?"

Grissom thought back, "He was just three." Noticing her closed expression, he said, "I'm sorry, Sara. You need to know we became lovers then. I'm not about to ask you to read chapter and verse."

She looked over at him and realized he'd only told the truth. He looked as embarrassed as she felt. Taking a deep breath, she told herself, _"Come on, Sidle. Relax. This is old stuff he's talking about here."_

"OK," she said, "so you became lovers then."

Grissom still looked uncomfortable. "Are you all right? Do you want to stop?"

"No, I'm good," she said with no enthusiasm at all.

Looking at his watch, he said, "It's 10 o'clock. We've been at this for three hours. Let's take a break. Could I interest you in a pizza?"

Sara was grateful for the chance to set this particular journal down. They exchanged banter about pizza places, types of crust and required toppings as tension eased between them. Grissom placed a call for delivery while Sara wondered at her response to the last journal entry. Was she jealous of this woman who'd been in his life 30 years ago? Yes, she was, if only because a ghost was standing between her and this man she wanted so badly. At least, she hoped Halyn was a ghost.

"Griss, are you over her?" she asked, shocked at her bluntness.

With a tenderness she'd been longing for, he met her eyes fully. "Yes, Sara. I am over her."

She hung there, suspended in his gaze, for a long time. She took a deep breath and said, "OK then."

* * *

**_To Be Continued...__ Chapters 3, 4, 5 and 6 to follow shortly_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary:** How can a relationship with Grissom be worse than longing for one? Sara insists on an answer. When Grissom complies, the words 'Be careful what you wish for,' prove to be true.

**Timeline:** Takes place during CSI Season Six. Minor spoilers for _Still Life, Daddy's Little Girl, Kiss Kiss Bye Bye,_ and _Pirates of the Third Reich._

**Disclaimer:** Nope, not mine. No silver has crossed my palm, either.

**A/N:** Sincere thanks to **csishewolf**, **brandie,** **dirtyvirgin**, and **csinut214** for their thoughtful comments during the writing of this story. Your suggestions made this story richer, when you could get me to take your advice…_BWAHahahahaha_. Officially unbetaed. Many eyes have sifted through these words, but mistakes are my own.

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

Rubble was all that remained of the large veggie supreme pizza they ordered. Eating gave them a much needed break from a very intense experience. They even managed to chat like they had years ago, the conversation drifting from topic to topic in an easy rhythm both had missed.

Grissom got up from the table to clear away the remains of their meal. Sara went back over to the love seat and faced the remaining stack of journals poised there on the coffee table. Her expression was bleak. She realized this was what she'd come for, but she'd had no idea learning the intimate details of Grissom's past would be as hard for her as it was for him. She did _not_ want to hear about Grissom being in love with another woman; a woman he managed to have an actual relationship with instead of whatever it was they were doing. He said it was over – she believed that. What she couldn't get past was how open he must have been with Halyn and how bitter it was that he'd let someone else in but not her. Why not her?

Recognizing the stress in her face, he said, "Sara, you know this isn't about her, don't you? It's about me and decisions I made a long time ago."

Words didn't come right away so she just nodded that she understood, though anyone could see the doubt in her eyes. "Oh, Sara. Don't compare yourself to Halyn. And there's nothing wrong with you."

That truth brought tears to her eyes. She tried to hide them by looking at the floor, silently damning him for suddenly having such insight now. Where was it months ago when he was leaving her after loving her, breaking her heart every damn time he pulled away?

Grissom felt sick. He was trying to fix the mess he'd made. He wanted to fix it. What he didn't want was to hurt Sara anymore. "Do you want to stop this?" he asked.

Shaking her head, Sara quickly rubbed her eyes and said, "No. I'm good. It's OK."

He took her hand as he sat next to her on the loveseat. "Sara…I…"

"Really, Griss, I'm fine," she said, meaning even if she didn't look like it.

She felt a gentle tugging on her hand which made her look over at him. "I have never shared this much about myself with anyone, not even Halyn. She never knew I kept journals. As much as she meant to me, I never showed her this part of myself. Do you understand?"

The part of her struggling not to compete with Halyn…and failing so miserably…finally got it. No need to worry about a rival in virgin territory. "I do, Grissom…I do understand."

Leaning forward slightly, he picked up the next journal from the stack. It was a large, black, cloth bound book with papers sticking out of the edges. "This one is from 1977-78, my senior year at college and my first year of grad school." As he opened the cover several black and white photographs fell onto the couch between them. Sara picked them up and glanced at Grissom. "May I?" She shuffled through them when he nodded yes.

The first was an architectural shot from an unusual angle. It was a tall building with chamfered corners. The shot was taken looking up one corner from the ground at an extreme angle; the effect made the structure look like it went on forever.

The next was of a small blond haired boy with curly hair, wearing only white cotton underpants and cowboy boots, glued to a tricycle and barreling toward the viewer. The look on his face was a combination of complete concentration and glee.

Next was a group of storm pictures. Storm clouds over the ocean from the vantage of a beach, stroke after stroke of lightning breaking from the clouds and falling toward the sea. Thunderheads perched on a mountaintop, spears of lightning reaching out in all directions. Backlit black clouds crouching ominously over a glittering city at night, one bolt of lightning extending its finger to the tallest building.

Finally there were extreme close-ups of insects, some in situ and others on unusual surfaces like newsprint or brightly colored wrapping paper. Many were of butterflies – exquisite portraits in all kinds of light, on flowers and leaves, and one on a young entomologist's shoulder.

"Look at you! How old were you here?" Sara beamed, for the picture was a priceless window into a young and grinning Grissom, eyes glued to the winged creature resting on his shirt.

"Twenty-one…no, twenty-two. That was taken in late summer of 1978," Grissom said, smiling at his younger self.

"These are beautiful, Griss. Did you take all these…well, except this one," she said, tapping the portrait still in her hand. "I can't get over all this curly hair," she said, looking over at him with a grin.

"Yeah, I wore it longer then. No, I didn't take these. Halyn did. She had a wonderful eye."

Shuffling back through the stack, she pulled out the one of the little boy, "Is this her son? This is a great image."

Grissom took the photo from her, remembering. "Yes, this is Jeffrey. He was four, I think…a real spitfire. This picture really captures that…it's why I kept it."

Sara asked carefully, "Do you have any pictures of her?"

He looked at her for a moment then took a journal from the middle of the stack in front of them. Fanning the pages, the book opened to a photograph stuck inside near the middle. It was small, 3x5, of a smiling couple: Grissom and Halyn. She was exactly as he'd described her. Long wavy hair, glasses, not particularly pretty though she did have a nice smile. The picture said a lot. Even though the couple was smiling and standing close, they were not touching and her smile did not light her eyes the way his did. If one looked closely, it was clear something was not quite right between them.

After examining the picture for several minutes, Sara asked, "What happened?"

Taking the snapshot from her, he slipped it back in place and picked up the book that had held the loose photographs. Opening it about midway, he indicated a marked section, "Read."

>>>>>

_Saturday, May 7, 1977 – Had a long talk with Halyn this morning when she stopped by after her gig. Hank is giving her trouble about custody, so she's worried about that. They have a court date in June. Living at home is not working very well. The fights are epic, she says, and I can believe it, knowing her mother._

_Halyn calls me her island of peace. I try to comfort her, but I can't fix anything. I'm not in a position to get her out; I'm struggling to make tuition and expenses as it is, even with work at the Coroner's office. She tells me that's not the answer anyway; she has to work this out for herself. It's hard to see her like this, especially when she looks at me that way and says she's just numb. It's like biting on tinfoil, so at odds with what I usually see in her._

>>>>>

_Wednesday, May 18, 1977 – Halyn has gotten that job she wanted at Wylie Labs. It'll mean more money, so she'll be able to get out on her own again. She wants to put Jeffrey in daycare, too, to get him away from her mother. That really isn't working out. The sooner she can make the break there, the better._

_>>>>>_

_Thursday, June 2, 1977 – Went out storm chasing with Halyn again this morning. She called me at midnight, telling me there was a great storm forming off the coast. I picked her up and we spent hours on the beach doing time lapse images of the lightning. The wind was blowing the tripod around until we buried the legs about a foot in the sand. Then we sat there, watching the gathering storm and light show._

_I keep forgetting how startling she is. Just as I am comfortable with my routine, she'll come up with some new idea she has to explore right that minute, then we are off and running. It is always worth it, these places she takes me._

_Mystery creates wonder and wonder is the basis of man's desire to understand –Neil Armstrong_

>>>>>

_Tuesday, June 6, 1977 – Halyn won custody of Jeffrey today. She's happier than I've seen her in months. _

>>>>>

_Saturday, July 16, 1977 – In celebration of Halyn's new apartment, I took her to Disneyland to do Space Mountain. She's been wanting to go since it opened in May, and of course, the place was mobbed on a Saturday, but the ride was great. Even with the crowds and the long waits in line, we got to go 7 times. A new record for us on a single ride._

_Being inside was different, but still a rush. Halyn prefers wood over steel, so we're doing wood next. Going to Belmont Park next weekend for the Giant Dipper and maybe Queens Park in two weeks for the Wild Maus. Only two parks left on the list after that._

>>>>>

Sara handed Grissom the book with a grin, "Halyn liked roller coasters?"

"Oh yeah, she got me started. One day she mentioned the Apache Whirlwind at Frontier Village, and how we should go. Then Space Mountain opened and she really wanted to do that. I thought it was kid stuff. I don't think I'd been to an amusement park since I was eight years old.

"When I didn't show any enthusiasm about roller coaster riding, she dragged me to Magic Mountain to ride the Revolution. It was thrilling. I started looking up amusement parks we could try. There were eight in California with big coasters that summer and we hit them all."

Picking up one of the photographs they'd talked about earlier, she asked, "Is this a photo from that night on the beach?" she asked.

"Yes. Every one of those images was the result of a similar trip. After dark, Halyn always had an ear cocked for thunder. One rumble and she was off, with me or without me," he said.

"You called her startling," Sara said, curious.

Grissom thought a moment and said, "She _was_ startling. Her eyes were wide open, taking in everything. When she'd get an idea, there was no censor in her head…it just came out and she played with it until she was done."

Sara looked a little confused so Grissom thought a moment and said, "Do you know who Richard Feynman was?"

"The physicist? Of course," she said, perplexed.

"Have you read, _Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman_?"

Smiling, she said, "Yes, it's one of my favorite books…" Suddenly her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, I get it."

He nodded and smiled, acknowledging her understanding. "I had this incredible sense of déjà vu while I was reading that book. All questions were equal to him, whether it was about physics or ants or lucid dreaming. He approached them all with the same curiosity. That's the way Halyn was…

"I've always been curious about things, but I'm reserved by nature. Every time she would come up with something outrageous to do, the sober side would resist. But the curious side wanted to know where she was going so I learned to let my curiosity lead me," he said.

"You're still that way," she said.

He looked at her softly, "And so are you."

"Why the journals, Grissom?" she asked. "It's a little weird to walk around in your head like this."

Taking her hand, he said, "Sara, I'm trying to explain some of the choices I've made so that when I tell you I love you…that I _treasure_ you…you'll believe me. So far my behavior hasn't shown that to you. I've hurt you instead."

Instantly tears filled her eyes, stinging with the truth. He _had_ hurt her, over and over. She knew he was trying to repair the damage, but he was right: he was going to have to show her he loved her by somehow explaining all the pain he'd caused.

"I could have just told you this story. You'd never know how true it was, though. You'd have to take it on faith. I think I've used up all of those points with you. I'm hoping you'll think that, in my journals, I was being honest…or at least, as honest as I could be with myself. If I am to let you in, then I have to find a way to rebuild the trust I've broken. It occurred to me that I could do both by sharing these with you. Make sense?"

Sara nodded, "Yes, it does."

"Is it working?"

"I'm still listening, Griss."

Picking up the journal again and flipping forward a few pages, he said, "Fair enough."

>>>>>

_Friday, September 9, 1977 – Don't know how I am going to fit it all in this year: TA for Dr. Edwards, research, work on the dis, work at the Coroner's office. Seems like I'm running everywhere._

_Pick a theme and work it to exhaustion... the subject must be something you truly love or truly hate –__Dorothea Lange_

>>>>>

_Sunday, September 18, 1977 – Went to Halyn's gig last night. I could tell she was a little put out that I fell asleep during the second set. _

_She wasn't much better – she's exhausted, too. She and the other techs from Wylie had done nothing but lay cable on Monday and Tuesday only to have the launch scrubbed at the last minute. Rather than pick up all that cable they put plastic bags around the joints so they could save time for the reschedule. It rained on Wednesday and when they went back to the site, all the bags were filled with water. They had to pick up the old cable and lay down new. Wonder if there is some sort of waterproof foam they could have used? Something like foam insulation that hardens as it cures?_

>>>>>

_Tuesday, October 11, 1977 – They imploded a building downtown tonight and Halyn talked me into going. She wanted to record the explosion and look at the subsonics. We managed to get very close to the safety perimeter. Talked to one of the crew, who explained how they set the charges in a daisy chain to safely implode the building in the middle of a city block._

_Thank God my first class isn't until 11 o'clock_.

_>>>>>_

_Thursday, November 24, 1977 – Thanksgiving Day – Halyn and I are not doing Thanksgiving this year. I need some sleep. I've been out every night for the past two weeks at my body farm gathering data for the dis. That is going very well and I think my findings will settle some unanswered questions, but I am dead on my feet. I need 30 hour days._

_I was unable to walk for a whole week after that, so much did the race take out of me. But it was the most pleasant exhaustion I have ever known –__Emil Zatopek_

>>>>>

Sara put down the journal and said, "So this is where you learned to work days at a time on no sleep and terrible coffee, huh?"

Chuckling, Grissom took the journal from her and said, "How do you know the coffee was terrible?"

"Who at the Lab even _thought_ to bring his own coffee? Greg, not you. You didn't think of it because you're used to bad coffee," she said, grinning at her conclusion.

"Can't fault your logic," he laughed.

"What's the title of your dissertation?"

"_Investigation of Nocturnal Oviposition by Necrophilous Flies in Coastal California,"_ he recited.

"That's why you had to be out there at night."

"Yeah. Several species of flies are active day and night. I wanted to find out if they lay eggs at night as well as during the day. The only way to find that out is to watch. I had a series of pigs up at my body farm. I'd set up my camera and take pictures all night long."

"Did Halyn ever go with you?" she asked.

"As interested as she was in other aspects of forensics, it did not extend to vigils with entomologists and dead pigs. Unlike you…and you even brought good coffee."

She smiled, "You noticed."

He smiled in return, "Oh yes."

"Tell me about Halyn's job. You wrote that she worked for Wylie Labs?"

"Wylie was a contractor to NASA. They collected data from scientific balloons. Halyn's job as an audio tech was to run cable, set up antennae and record audio telemetry. She kind of fell into it from her job at the recording studio. Wylie needed people who knew that kind equipment inside and out, so they went to the recording industry for techs. Everybody she worked with had a music connection," he said.

"Sounds like an unusual job for a woman."

"It was. She was the only woman at Wylie then, but her knowledge of the equipment was so far superior to that of anyone else on staff, they were happy to have her. Laying cable was physically demanding, but there were enough men on her team to make up for her physical limitations."

Flipping to the end of the journal, Grissom handed it back to Sara. "Just one more entry in this one."

>>>>>

_Sunday, September 17, 1978 – Halyn and I managed to get away for the weekend. This is the first time in a long time that we've had two days in a row to ourselves. We left Jeffrey with her mom and went to Magic Mountain to do the Revolution and the new Colossus. _

_I thought everything was fine until Sunday morning. I was talking about the future, after grad school and once I'm established…maybe saving for a house. She looked so sad and said, "You know I can't get married again, Gil." Of course, she's said that before, but I wasn't talking marriage or even living together… I was talking about a house. Everything seems good between us…has for a long time, but she's said off and on since the divorce that she fees numb. I guess I don't understand. _

_She insisted we go to Knott's Berry Farm to ride Montezooma's Revenge. We managed 10 rides. She's usually so happy on the roller coasters, but today she seemed…different. Driven somehow. Eventually she perked up and the rest of the evening was fine. I can't shake the feeling that I've missed something._

>>>>>

Sara thought for a moment as she put the journal on the coffee table and turned to Grissom. "Wow. That was out of the blue."

He met her questioning eyes. "That's how it seemed to me, too. I thought everything was good. I felt good. I was happy. How could anything be wrong?"

"What was going on?" she asked.

Grissom frowned and sat back on the couch. "I was so naïve, Sara. The young man I was then was not that much more emotionally mature than the teenager I was when I met Halyn. I had so little experience, I thought what we had was intimate…and it was for me, that is, it was as intimate as I knew how to be with another person. And I was so busy – I barely had time to breathe – that I didn't realize how limited our relationship was…."

He got up then and walked around the room. "When she said she felt numb, I had no idea what she was talking about. Numb to me was a physical sensation associated with lack of nerve conduction. I did try to understand, but her part in this was that she didn't really want to talk about it, so it would come up from time to time and pass away. The status quo remained."

"Sounds like trouble," Sara said thoughtfully.

Grissom went back to the couch and picked up another journal. "It was," he said. Flipping to the first marked section, he passed her the book.

* * *

**_To Be Continued... Chapters 4, 5, and 6 to follow shortly_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary:** How can a relationship with Grissom be worse than longing for one? Sara insists on an answer. When Grissom complies, the words 'Be careful what you wish for,' prove to be true.

**Timeline:** Takes place during CSI Season Six. Minor spoilers for _Still Life, Daddy's Little Girl, Kiss Kiss Bye Bye,_ and _Pirates of the Third Reich._

**Disclaimer:** Nope, not mine. No silver has crossed my palm, either.

**A/N:** Sincere thanks to **csishewolf**, **brandie,** **dirtyvirgin**, and **csinut214** for their thoughtful comments during the writing of this story. Your suggestions made this story richer, when you could get me to take your advice…_BWAHahahahaha_. Officially unbetaed. Many eyes have sifted through these words, but mistakes are my own.

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

_Wednesday, October 11, 1978 – Started the second wave of observations at my body farm, this time in a lighted setting as opposed to natural darkness. Was having a hard time figuring out how to drag car batteries up there until Halyn got some of the guys from Wylie to give me a hand. They showed me how to hook up a series of batteries like they do in the field. _

_Halyn has started her own experiment. She wants to try doing photographic portraits. There's certainly a market here for headshots and the like, but she's more interested in less formal portraits. Something that looks like an incredibly good snapshot. She's gotten a lot of positive feedback from the mothers at Jeffrey's daycare on her pictures of him. Now she wants to expand it to adults and perhaps families. _

xxx

_Monday, January 1, 1979 – New Year's Day – Halyn and I saw the New Year in last night. We spent a quiet evening at her place. Jeffrey conked out about 9:30 and we left him curled up with his trucks on the floor in the living room. It was tough staying awake ourselves, but we managed it. Had a glass of champagne and a kiss and then dropped off on the couch. I woke up about 2:30 and put Jeffrey to bed. It struck me how much like a family we feel…and how much I love that. I can't remember feeling this way since Dad died. _

_A happy family is but an earlier heaven – George Bernard Shaw _

xxx

_Saturday, April 14, 1979 – Took Jeffrey to the beach today. A launch that got scrubbed last week was suddenly rescheduled. Hank was out of town on a gig and Mrs. Weaver was drunk (she's had a serious relapse after four years of sobriety. Halyn is very upset). _

_Stopped at McDonald's on the way home. When Jeffrey didn't finish his fries, I asked if he wanted to keep them. He said yes, then licked the top part of the package and tried to stick it to the outside of the bag. I was thunderstruck. This is how you close and seal a baggie of grass, not French fries. Where did he learn this? _

_When Jeffrey was in bed tonight I told Halyn about the incident. She immediately ran into his room to watch him sleep and stood there crying until I coaxed her back out into the living room. Hank apparently is still using even though he says he's not. Jeffrey must have picked it up there. I asked her about the band (they use, I've seen them). She knew immediately that I was asking about her, not the band and she got very angry. She talked about her mother and how hard it had been living with an alcoholic and did I actually think she would do anything to hurt Jeff. I told her that I loved Jeff and was only trying to protect him as any caring adult would do. _

_We talked a long time about her growing up years and how her mom's alcoholism had been a burden for her. Her marriage to Hank was at least partially ruined by his drug use in addition to his infidelities. She sobbed in my arms for a long time. Finally she stopped crying and hugged me, saying she didn't know where she'd be without her 'island of peace.' I don't know where I'd be without her. _

_Halyn is going call her lawyer in the morning. _

xxx

Sara looked up from the book. "This is the first time you've talked about Jeffrey."

"I know. I actually didn't get to see that much of Jeffrey. With my schedule, Halyn and I only got together once or twice a week, if that, and he was with Hank every other weekend. When he did that thing at McDonald's I felt protective of him…not like a father, exactly…" Grissom trailed off as he thought, "I loved the family feeling I had when we were all together even though I knew we weren't really a family."

"You don't have to be related by blood to be family, Grissom."

He pulled himself out of the past and looked at her. She said, "I still think of the people who took me in after my father died as my 'real' family." She paused for a few moments and went on, "I used to fantasize that they _were_ my real family, just like you did with Jeffrey and Halyn. So, what happened with Hank?"

"At first he denied it all and Halyn had a lot of meetings with her lawyer. They were just developing a plan when Hank got busted for possession with intent to distribute. He went away for a long time and Jeffrey was safe, thank God. Him and a lot of other kids," he said, clearly still angry all these years later.

Sara smiled and patted him firmly in the knee. "Good."

Grissom leaned over to turn several pages of the book to the next marked section.

xxx

_Tuesday, September 4, 1979 – Back to school for me and first day of school for Jeffrey. Halyn called earlier to say the day went well for him. He likes his teacher – a Mrs. Garrett – and they have a rabbit in the classroom. No insects, though. _

_Dr. Edwards and I met today. He likes what I've got so far and so does the committee, which means I can keep going on my topic. He mentioned that they were all surprised I was going to be able to do this in two years (providing I get the dis done). Only doing TA duty on three classes this semester, which will leave me more time to write. If the writing goes well, I may even get some sleep. That is, if things stay quiet at the Coroner's office. _

xxx

_Saturday, September 29, 1979 – Halyn has had some fliers made up about her portrait work and I'm going to put them out at the Coroner's office. Have showed her pictures around for years so a lot of the people I work with are already aware of her reputation. So far she hasn't made any real money, but I can see that changing. The portraits she's done in the last several months are beautiful, especially the ones of children. It isn't framing or lighting or anything technical she does. It's a gift. _

_To take photographs means to recognize – simultaneously and within a fraction of a second – both the fact itself and the rigorous organization of visually perceived forms that give it meaning. It is putting one's head, one's eye and one's heart on the same axis – __Henri Cartier-Bresson _

xxx

_Friday, December 14, 1979 – Talked with one of the photo lab techs at the Coroner's office. They routinely rotate equipment as new things are purchased. Enlargers, for example. Told me I could get a good one with a good lens for less than $100. Maybe I can swing this for Halyn's Christmas gift. _

xxx

_Tuesday, January 1, 1980 – New Year's Day – Halyn and I went to a New Year's party at Wylie last night. They are a funny bunch. An odd mix of old audio techs from the music business, a few engineers, a couple of riggers…one of the engineers got very drunk and the techs thought it would be fun to put a microphone in the john. We left before they got the recorder hooked up but not before Edgar started throwing up. _

_I was talking about the year ahead on the way home. Dr. Gerard has offered me full time work at the Coroner's office. Of course, I won't start until after the school year, but this will mean no more hot dogs for dinner…enough money to live on and a job I already know I love. I was excited but Halyn seemed off somewhere. _

_She said the oddest thing. She said the future just seemed like an endless progression of days and that she hated New Year's because it makes her think of the 365 new days stretching off ahead. I didn't mention that this is a leap year. _

_When she saw how worried I was she told she'd be fine in the morning…that champagne makes her maudlin. Seems like she has these spells every month or two. I called her awhile ago and she does seem fine, but I worry about her. Her future looks bright to me. _

xxx

_Saturday, January 5, 1980 – Halyn stopped by after her gig this morning. She was chatting away about the night when I asked her if she was happy. She said yes. I've been thinking about New Year's and what she said. It's that tinfoil thing again. I wouldn't let it go and finally she told me that something died in her when her marriage ended…innocence, maybe…now and then she feels an echo and that makes her sad. _

_I remember when Dad died. I can understand when she says it's like something is missing. Sometimes I still feel that way when I think about him, but it's him I miss, not me or a part of me. I still don't know quite what she means. _

xxx

Closing the book and holding her place with her finger, Sara asked, "So let me get this straight. You and Halyn were getting along fine, but every month or two she'd become inexplicably withdrawn. You did try to find out what the problem was, but she couldn't explain it in a way that you could understand."

"Right."

"Grissom, where did you see your relationship going? She said she couldn't get married again but you had hopes that wasn't final, at least that's what I'm getting from the things you wrote. You even had moments when you thought of you and Halyn and Jeffrey as a family. What did you think was going to happen?"

"Sara, I wish I could give you a better answer but I was so happy I just thought it would all work itself out. Except for those times when Halyn seemed…preoccupied…it was all good. For me. I thought, for her, too. I didn't look deeper and I should have. I didn't know how," he said, frowning. "I loved her. The idea of 'us' had become precious to me…I didn't want to know."

Sara said thoughtfully, "When the object of your fantasy doesn't do much to burst your bubble, it's pretty easy to maintain."

Grissom wouldn't meet her eyes. "I know."

"Of course, when someone maintains a dream like that, it's hard to wake them up to reality…"

Grissom looked pained, "I know that, too."

"Seems like we both know a little something about this subject, huh?" she said, opening the book and offering it back to him so he could turn to the next marked section.

xxx

_Sunday, April 6, 1980 – Easter Sunday – Halyn and I went up to Descanso Gardens today. She wanted to scout new portrait settings and I just wanted to be somewhere outside that was easy on __the eyes. So much was in bloom: __Azaleas, lilacs, tulips, camellias, as well as a lot wild flowers and native plants. It was easy to forget about research and crime and my dissertation…I get so focused sometimes I forget to look around and see what's beyond my schedule. _

xxx

_Monday, June 9, 1980 – Today was my first day as a full time employee at the L.A. Coroner's Office. Philip was very welcoming, introducing me around as 'Doctor' Grissom. I think he's proud of me. Makes me wish Dad was here. _

_Met Halyn for dinner. She said two more people from the PD have called for appointments. She thanked me again for the enlarger. Not having to send her negs out for prints means more profit for her. It pleases me to see her so happy. She was even talking about doing photography full time and giving up her job at Wylie. Not right away, but in a couple of years, maybe. _

xxx

_Monday, September 15, 1980 – Today was a truly awful day. 419 was a 7 year old boy, apparently got into his parents' stash and ODed. Even though the boy didn't look like Jeffrey, I couldn't stop thinking about him. When we cleared the scene I called Halyn to make sure they were both OK, then I spent the evening with them. Thank God Hank is off the street. _

_I don't use drugs, my dreams are frightening enough – M. C. Escher _

xxx

_Monday, December 29, 1980 – Philip has assigned an assistant coroner to me. Frank Spenser. Started today. Seems like an OK guy. Kind of odd to have a subordinate. I've been low man around here for so long…but Philip said I needed the help and that's true. Reminds me of when I was TA for Dr. Edwards. I was explaining something to Frank about manner of death as opposed to cause of death when I realized that I miss teaching. _

xxx

Sara closed the journal and handed it back to him. "Now you're starting to sound like the Grissom I know."

"I slid into the life like it was made for me, Sara. It would be more accurate to say I was made for it, I suppose…after six months, it was hard to remember doing anything else…I'd been preparing so long," he said thoughtfully.

"Dr. Gerard was right to give you someone to teach. You're good at it."

"Did you know it was Philip who encouraged me to start teaching seminars? At first it was only in the greater Los Angeles area, but within a couple of years I was doing as many as four a year, all over the country."

Smiling, she said, "Well, I guess I can forgive him now…he apparently paid his debt in advance."

Grissom smiled back. "I've always been grateful for the opportunities those seminars have given me," he said as he picked up the next journal.

xxx

_Saturday, April 4, 1981 – Particularly horrible scene today. Apparent murder suicide about 2 months old. Two adults and five children. Everyone was throwing up. There are times when I hate this job. _

xxx

_Monday, April 27, 1981 – Philip approached me about taking on criminalist duties in addition to my coroner work. I'd start as a CSI I, but he said I have so much experience I could advance quickly if I wanted to. I was going to wait until I'd been on staff a year, but he beat me to it. Can't wait to tell Halyn. _

xxx

_Wednesday, June 10, 1981 – Brought more of Halyn's fliers to work today. She is getting quite a reputation around the Coroner's office and PD. Frank wants to get a portrait done to give his Mom for Christmas, so that's another commission. Halyn might be able to leave Wylie as early as January. _

xxx

_Monday, July 6, 1981 – Had a great time over the weekend. Went to J's Amusement Park to ride Devil's Coach. Eight times. Stayed for the fireworks, too. Had a little cookout over at Halyn's on Sunday and gave Jeffrey some sparklers. Halyn was a little worried he might burn himself, but he was very careful, bringing us the hot wires when he was done. _

_Brought a bunch of proofs to the office this morning. I teased Halyn that I've become her messenger boy. Frank seemed very pleased with his. _

xxx

_Thursday, September 10, 1981 – Thinking about getting Halyn a nice piece of jewelry for Christmas. One of the officers here has a brother who makes jewelry on the side. I've seen some of his stuff. Sterling silver with semi-precious stones. I'm going to see him tomorrow to discuss designs and price. He said he had a lot of stones on hand, so I might be able to order it then. I'm thinking a bracelet of some sort. She wouldn't accept a ring, but she'd like a bracelet…now that I'm making more money, I can get her something nice. Not sure why I want her to wear a piece of jewelry I've given her. Territorial, maybe? It seems like something people in love do…I like that. _

xxx

_Sunday, September 13, 1981 – Halyn's Christmas present is a done deal. Went to see the jeweler, John Martin. His workshop is in his garage. It may be humble but the stuff he makes is beautiful. I picked out a picture jasper cabochon that I think Halyn will like…looks just like a painting…and we sat right there and designed the bracelet. It'll be ready in two weeks. _

xxx

_Thursday, September 17, 1981 – Must be broken car day at the Coroner's office. I gave three guys a lift home. Didn't get home until 8:30. I hate the freeway. _

xxx

_Monday, October 5, 1981 – John stopped by the Lab today to drop off the bracelet. He did a magnificent job. I couldn't resist showing it to Frank. I caught myself babbling about Halyn…it must have been the excitement of the moment. I never bring personal stuff to work This is the first really nice gift I've been able to give her. It's going to be hard to wait until Christmas. _

xxx

_Wednesday, December 23, 1981 – There's been a building collapse in Pasadena. Three story apartment building. Eight deaths, including three children. Suspicious circs. We're all hands on deck until we process evidence from the scene. Called Halyn to let her know Christmas may be on hold until the weekend. _

xxx

Sara turned the page to find it blank. She flipped several more pages – all blank. She turned to Grissom, "We're the rest?"

"There isn't any more." That was when she saw the muscles in his jaw working again, "My God, Grissom, did Halyn die?"

Taking a deep breath, he reached for the journal in her lap, closing the book and smoothing his hand over the cover several times before setting it down on the coffee table. He shook his head. "No, Halyn didn't die. I did."

* * *

**To Be Continued... Chapters 5 and 6 to follow shortly**


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary:** How can a relationship with Grissom be worse than longing for one? Sara insists on an answer. When Grissom complies, the words 'Be careful what you wish for,' prove to be true.

**Timeline:** Takes place during CSI Season Six. Minor spoilers for _Still Life, Daddy's Little Girl, Kiss Kiss Bye Bye,_ and _Pirates of the Third Reich._

**Disclaimer:** Nope, not mine. No silver has crossed my palm, either.

**A/N:** Sincere thanks to **csishewolf**, **brandie,** **dirtyvirgin**, and **csinut214** for their thoughtful comments during the writing of this story. Your suggestions made this story richer, when you could get me to take your advice…_BWAHahahahaha_. Officially unbetaed. Many eyes have sifted through these words, but mistakes are my own.

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Silence stretched between them: Sara in shock and Grissom partially trapped in the past. She recovered first. "What happened?" she asked softly.

After a few moments he got up, walked to the kitchen island and poured himself another drink. Leaning against the counter, he tried to gather his thoughts – he had to finish this. _"I didn't think it would be this hard,"_ he thought. Seeing the concern on Sara's face made it worse. Tears from an age ago stung behind his eyes, begging for release. He took a swallow of bourbon and plunged forward.

"We worked three days straight on that evidence. The whole lab: more than twenty CSIs, coroners and techs. It was early Christmas morning when Philip finally released us. Frank's car was on the blink again so I offered him a ride. He tried to tell me he was going to catch a bus, but I insisted. Eventually, he gave in.

"I was so tired I didn't realize he was guiding me in the opposite direction from where he lived until I recognized Halyn's neighborhood. He tried to have me drop him off at the Burger King right up the street from her place. I looked over at him to ask what was going on and suddenly, I knew. I don't know how I knew, I just did.

"I drove past the Burger King and pulled up to Halyn's duplex. When he opened the door to get out I asked him, 'How long?' He said, 'Since the summer.' Frank just hung there, half in and half out of the car, waiting for me to release him. I said, 'Do you love her?' He didn't hesitate for even a moment. He said, 'Yes, I do.'

"Halyn must have heard the car idling from inside because she stepped out onto the porch to see what was going on. She stood there staring at the two of us frozen in the dome light of my car – I heard her gasp and when I looked up she was horrified, both hands covering her mouth.

"Frank finally got all the way out of car and shut the door. Halyn had fled by this time. I watched him walk up the driveway. He paused for a minute at the door before disappearing inside. Eventually I put the car in gear and drove home."

Draining his drink, he turned and poured another. After taking a sip he turned back to Sara, surprised to see tears streaming down her face. Then he realized his own face was wet. Quickly wiping his eyes, he went on, "She called me later and asked that I come over to talk. I had no idea what there was to talk about, but I was morbidly fascinated with this thing going up in flames around me, so I agreed. I had Jeffrey's Christmas present, too – I told myself I should make sure he got it. I was on autopilot…funny that seeing him get one more Christmas present was important to me…he certainly didn't need it…but it was something concrete to fasten on.

"Frank met me at the door when I got there and immediately disappeared into the bedroom. While I was waiting for Halyn to come out, I looked around this place that had felt so like home to me…there was a Christmas tree and wrapping paper all over the floor from the gifts Jeffrey had opened, several I didn't recognize which I realized must have been contributions from Frank…and I swear to you, there was this song playing on the stereo: 'Torn Between Two Lovers.' Honestly Sara, it was surreal. I felt like I was watching it all through some kind of window…that I was just an observer.

"Halyn finally came out. She'd been crying. When she realized what was playing on the stereo she turned it off and practically pushed me outside. We stood there on the sidewalk in front of her house, each waiting for the other to say something.

"She said, 'Gil, I am so sorry…I don't know what to say…' I know I tried to say something a couple of times but couldn't seem to make any sounds. At last I said, 'Do you love him?' She nodded and I turned to go. I remember thinking calmly, 'Well, that's that,' as I was getting in the car. Halyn ran around to the driver's side and hit the window several times, so I rolled it down.

"She told me that I was her best friend and without me, she wouldn't have gotten through her divorce. She said it was all her fault…after her divorce she was desperate to feel something – anything – again. Being with me felt so good after so much shit at home and with Hank. When we got together, she thought she'd found the answer…she'd told me she loved me because she thought she did love me…but as time went on she realized something was missing. She kept telling herself something was wrong with her, then tried not to think about it. When she met Frank, that part she thought was dead came back. That's when she realized she loved me but she was _in love_ with him. She just didn't know how to tell me.

"As I watched her standing there crying…telling me all this…I knew she was telling the truth. And I finally understood what she meant when she talked about feeling numb. I felt extremely remote. Part of me said matter-of-factly, 'my heart is broken' but it wasn't attached to any feeling…it was an observation, like 'my shoe is untied.'

"When she ran down, I rolled up the window and started the car. Then I drove home."

As Grissom finished speaking he found himself sitting on the couch next to Sara, who was holding his hand tightly. He wondered idly how he had gotten there, then decided it didn't matter. They were sharing another well of grief, like they had at her apartment a year ago. A small voice in his head said, 'be here now.' It was as if a bubble burst, thrusting him into the present and firmly into the moment – with Sara. More than 20 years of grief rushed out of him as they sat together connected by clasped hands and love.

xxx

It took a long time for the sorrow to spend itself. As Grissom steadfastly refused to express or even acknowledge his loss, it collected all his other hurts like a magnet. In the end, he wasn't just grieving for Halyn, but for pain from half a lifetime.

When Sara sensed he was through and starting to collect himself, she went to the kitchen and brought him several paper towels wet with cold water. "Here," she said, putting them in his hand, "hold these against your eyes. It helps with the sting."

Eyes red and face puffy, he took them from her with a tiny embarrassed smile. "Thanks," he said, relieved to have some reason to cover his face. It's one thing to resolve to be more open – it's another to really do it for the first time, then sit eye to eye with the person to whom you've bared your soul.

Sara sat quietly waiting for him to process what had just happened, still shocked that he'd actually done it. As much as she wanted him to let her in, she'd decided long ago that Grissom had walls she'd never breach. They were just part of his landscape. She was prepared to accept some serious limits with him, but he'd blown her wildest expectations out of the water. She just hoped he didn't go into full retreat.

Grissom got up and went into the kitchen where he washed his face and dunked his head under the faucet. He grabbed a few more paper towels to dry off, then combed his fingers through his hair. Reaching into a cabinet for two glasses, he crossed to the fridge to get ice and two bottles of water before settling back down on the couch. Spying Sara's empty water bottle, he handed her an ice choked tumbler and full bottle. "I didn't even offer you a glass before. I'm sorry, Sara," he said.

She set the glass on the coffee table and twisted the cap off her bottle. 'That's OK, Griss. You were a little preoccupied."

That made him smile. Filling his own glass, he drank what was left in the bottle then half drained the glass. "I'm very thirsty," he said, surprised. "Sharing is thirsty work."

Draining her own glass, Sara said, "It is that," and laughed.

"Too bad I don't have a fireplace to smash our glasses in," he said, meeting her eyes.

Holding his gaze, Sara said softly, "Oh, I think you've done enough smashing for one day." When Grissom didn't say anything, she asked, "What happened after Christmas, Griss?"

"I called Philip the day after Christmas and told him I wanted to take some leave. I booked a room at a cheap hotel in Sylmar and spent a week at Magic Mountain. I still hold the record there for consecutive rides on the Colossus…I stopped counting after 200."

"Did that help?" Sara asked.

"I did it to feel something, Sara. The noise and chaos mirrored my mental state…I read an article once by a man whose son was autistic. He was trying to figure out why the boy would spin things…anything he could hold in his hands. He finally concluded that if his son's world was spinning, maybe the only way he could get a good look at the things in it was to spin them, too. That's how it was on the roller coasters. Every nerve was overloaded just like my head was. And of course, I did it to feel close to Halyn. I was trying to remember and to forget."

Sara nodded. "You still ride them."

"That was when they really became mine…not just something I shared with her. It's what I did…what I do…to hold it together."

"Wasn't there anyone you could confide in?" she asked.

"Well, there was my mother, but we hadn't been close since my dad died. Philip was a mentor and we did socialize occasionally, but he was just not that kind of person. Everyone else I knew was a colleague at work, not a friend. Halyn was the only person I had, and I'd lost her.

"All I knew to do was work harder or study harder. I'd done it before, so that's what I did," he said.

Sara took this in and thought a moment. "What happened to Halyn and Frank?"

"When I got back from my week off, Frank had resigned. He must have told someone at the Lab because word got around and no one ever mentioned either of them after that. I boxed up the things she had at my place and left them with Mrs. Walker. She never said whether Halyn came to get them or not. A box of my things appeared on my doorstep around that same time."

Puzzled, Sara asked, "And that was it? You just 'disappeared' them from your life?"

"I shut down to survive, Sara. It's taken years for me to understand what that choice cost me."

Putting together recent events with the past and remembering the pain that made her force Grissom's hand, she said, "And if I hadn't stopped you from walking out the door that day at my place, you'd have 'disappeared' me, too?"

Eyes sad, Grissom reached out to take Sara's hand. Reluctantly, she allowed the touch. "Sara, I have made so many mistakes with you. The worst was opening the door to intimacy then not letting you through it. You asked why I hurt you. Telling you about Halyn is a big part of my explanation…because you need to know how shut down I've been and why. But that doesn't really explain my behavior."

"No, it doesn't."

Grissom leaned forward and picked up the single journal remaining on the coffee table. "I didn't start keeping a journal again until about a year ago, after Nick's kidnapping. This is it," he said, placing it in her hands. "I don't think this really explains my behavior either, but I'm giving it to you so you'll know I wasn't being purposely cruel. I hope after you read it, maybe you'll forgive me and we can start again. Because I do love you, Sara, and I hope I'm done making the really big mistakes."

Sara sat staring at the leather bound book in her hands, wondering what he'd written. This wasn't about some ancient love affair – among other things, this was about HER. A flash of shock raced up her spine as she considered the access he'd just given her. _"What does he expect me to do with this?"_ She looked at him wide eyed.

"Maybe you'd like to take it home?" he offered, hoping she would jump at his suggestion.

"Yes…home…I'll take it with me," she said, relieved.

"OK," he said. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

Finally, she found her voice. "Thank you, Grissom. For trusting me."

"Thank you, Sara, for listening."

xxx

Grissom's journal lay on Sara's coffee table like Pandora's Box, beckoning with the promise of secrets revealed. All she had to do was flip open the cover and she'd have her wish. Holding her cup of tea close to her chest, soaking in the heat that spilled between her fingers, she thought, _"Be careful what you wish for, Sidle."_

In the two days since the 'night of revelations,' it had been quiet at the Lab so she hadn't had work to take her mind off Grissom's confession. She noticed he'd been in his office buried in paperwork, necessary but suspiciously convenient…as she thought about it she decided the break was probably a good thing. They both needed time to process what had passed between them – and what was to come.

He'd given her a mixed blessing when he gave her this journal. _"There'll be no going back after this,"_ she thought, then laughed at her own naïveté.

Her relationship with Grissom had been nothing but 'no going back' moments, starting the day she came to Las Vegas. There was no going back when he said he'd only been interested in beauty since he'd met her, or when she'd told him about her parents, or when she'd let him into her bed and certainly not since he'd laid open his painful past to her. Who was she kidding? They'd deluded themselves that they weren't traveling the same path…the pace had just picked up recently and they were both a little frightened of the speed.

Sara carefully set her cup down on the table and picked up the book. Taking a deep breath, she opened the cover. Written squarely in the center of the first page was a quote:

_Anyone who cannot come to terms with his life while he is alive needs one hand to ward off a little his despair over his fate... but with his other hand he can note down what he sees among the ruins_ – _Franz Kafka_

"_Here we go,"_ she thought, and turned the page.

The first entries were from mid-May 2005, just after Nick's kidnapping. As she started to read, the raw pain of those days loomed once more. Having no desire to go back to that horrible time she decided to start with the first time they'd made love. That had been the start of all this, so that was a logical place to begin.

xxx

_Thursday, December 29, 2005 – What have I done?_

_I allowed myself to be with Sara today. Even as my mind fogged with desire for her, I could have pulled back. Now that I have made love to her, I am lost._

_I was weak. I was selfish._

_But, oh, what bliss to be with her at last. Her skin is softer than I imagined. Her scent filled my lungs like smoke – instead of gasping for air, I breathed deep trying to burn it in memory. When I finally entered her, she was hot and wet and so ready…it was all I could do not to ravage her._

_She knew exactly where to touch me, the words to set me on fire. I have been closed and empty for so many years, it was a shock to be filled up. Until she said she loved me._

_What am I going to do? What do I have to offer her? I've been dead a long time. If I cannot give her anything, it would be a sin to go on. _

_Now that I've loved her, I am truly lost. God help me._

xxx

_Tuesday, January 3, 2006 – I only managed to stay away for five days. She took me to her bed again and loved me. Afterward, I couldn't face her. She dozed off and I stole away, burning with shame._

_I swear I will not give in again, but even as I write these words my body rages for her. I am raw from trying to still the need._

xxx

_Friday, January 13, 2006 – I can hardly bear to look at her. I see confusion in her eyes, and pain. I put them there. What a prick._

_Sometimes I tell myself I love her and what we're doing is OK. I tell myself that, but the ice in my chest knows the truth. For those few blessed minutes in her arms, buried in her body, I'm alive and I know I love her. If only I could stay alive. _

_All sins tend to be addictive, and the terminal point of addiction is damnation_ – _W. H. Auden_

xxx

_Thursday, January 19, 2006 – Today at the Lab I was discussing a case – drawing an analogy between people in a deadly relationship and the uncontrolled detonation of thermite; benign elements coming together to burn so hot the fire can melt steel, just as the people in the case had come together explosively. _

_Sara said, "I guess some people just shouldn't be together." _

_My heart was in my throat…I thought, 'Please don't leave me, Sara,' as if we're together in any way other than the sex I take from her. Why am I doing this to her? To myself? I thought I was an honorable man, not some ass who uses women._

_And I went to her after shift. I stood on her doorstep like some oversexed teenager, on fire for her. When I saw the heat reflected in her eyes, control slipped away. She let me lose myself in her._

_As soon as I found myself again I left._

xxx

_Friday, January 27, 2006 – Sara and I walked into Trace last night and caught Hodges touching up his gray with a magic marker. Sara said something like, didn't he know gray hair can be very attractive? Maybe she was talking about me._

_I've been twisting in my own wind since we began, avoiding her until I find myself at her door…is it possible she doesn't hate me?_

_I am a wreck, ever since Halyn called..._

Sara gasped in shock, "What!" and looked back down at the journal in her hands.

…_ever since Halyn called I have been unsettled…_

The words on the page were quite clear. _Halyn called._

* * *

**To Be Continued... Chapter 6 to follow shortly**


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary:** How can a relationship with Grissom be worse than longing for one? Sara insists on an answer. When Grissom complies, the words _'Be careful what you wish for,'_ prove true.

**Timeline:** Takes place during CSI Season Six. Minor spoilers for _Still Life, Daddy's Little Girl, Kiss Kiss Bye Bye,_ and _Pirates of the Third Reich._

**Disclaimer:** Nope, not mine. No silver has crossed my palm, either.

**A/N:** Sincere thanks to **csishewolf**, **brandie**, **dirtyvirgin**, and **csinut214** for their thoughtful comments during the writing of this story. Your suggestions made this story richer, when you could get me to take your advice…_BWAHahahahaha_. Officially unbetaed. Many eyes have sifted through these words, but mistakes are my own.

I want to thank everyone who has stuck with me as this story spun itself out. The thoughts you have so generously shared with me for each chapter mean a great deal to me. I do not know what it is about these characters...whether it is the characters themselves or the composite portraits William Petersen and Jorja Fox have created...whatever it is, they are compelling. Such subtley, so much left unsaid. I actually feel driven sometimes to fill in the blanks.

Of the stories I have written, this is my favorite. Every compliment, every thought, every wish for more touched my heart. I hope you all enjoyed the ending (and let me tell you how difficult it is to end a story like this). If I must end it, though, it is good to end it among friends who like it as much as I do.

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX**

"Son of a bitch!" Dropping the book on the couch, she got up to pace around the room. _"I can't wait to hear his explanation for this,"_ she thought, remembering what he'd said about being over Halyn. Her pacing carried her into the kitchen where she slammed around the makings for another cup of tea. She turned the gas on under the kettle then walked back to the couch and stood, hands on hips, staring down at the journal. As her agitation waned, she realized the answer was right in front of her…Grissom would have made at least one entry about a call from Halyn.

Going backward from the time they'd gotten together, page by page, she finally found what she was looking for.

xxx

_Wednesday, November 30, 2005 – Halyn called today. I haven't seen or heard from her in more than 20 years. I was so shocked, all I could say was, 'How did you find me?' Like an echo from the past, she told me she looked me up in the book…or rather, called to apologize for having hurt me so all those years ago. _

_I was speechless. In a daze, I mumbled something socially acceptable like, 'You don't have to apologize,' and immediately felt like an idiot._

_The purpose of her call was to try to make amends for what she did to me. She said, 'Gil, even though I know there is no way to take it back, I'm trying to heal the damage I have done…make things right. I'm not asking for forgiveness.'_

_I still didn't know what to say. And then I did. I asked her why._

_She said she'd married Hank to get away from home and then landed herself in a worse mess with a baby to raise. Back when she left Hank she hadn't meant to run to me…she just wanted someone to talk to. Even with her mom sober things at home were a trial, on top of the demands of being a mother. She had no one until she found me that day. In the beginning, she said, it was as if no time had passed since the summer we met. Once we made love, she said, she put all her troubles in a box and tried to start a new life._

_As time went on she realized there was a dead place inside her. Every time she thought about it, though, it pulled her away from me. I loved her so much, she said…and she was safe and we were good together…she was scared to risk the only comfort she'd ever known. When she was stressed from trying to make it on her own, from dealing with her crazy mother or feeling alone raising Jeffrey, she could count on me – her island of peace. _

_I didn't demand much from her, she said. I was so busy with school and the Coroner's office, it was like an extended honeymoon…stolen moments, really. It was easy for her to just enjoy what we had and deny that dead place, but it would creep up on her, she said, every time I talked about the future. She'd look at me and realize she could never give back the love I gave her. But she was selfish, she said, and couldn't bear to give it up if that meant being alone again._

_When she met Frank, something happened. They didn't mean to get involved but they couldn't help it. With him, she said, she felt fully alive for the first time since her divorce. She told herself, 'you can't help who you love,' until she realized I was going to be the one to pay for it._

_I didn't say anything for awhile. Finally, I said, 'Halyn, I hated you for a long time – blamed you for ruining what we had. I shut down when you left me…I decided to keep everyone out so no one else could hurt me. And no one has, but it's cost me,' and even as I said that I was thinking of Sara. How many years have I wasted with Sara because of this?_

_We chatted a bit after that. She and Frank broke up years ago, she said, not long after they lost a child – a little girl. Jeffrey is in the music business, fronting a band that's having some success in Europe. He's in Germany, married with two kids that Halyn doesn't get to see as often as she'd like. Professionally, she's analyzing subsonic vocalizations large mammals make during mating, like elephants and rhinoceroses. She laughed and said she works for Jim Fowler, the guy Marlin Perkins on Wild Kingdom used to send unarmed into the field to face large angry animals. She finally got married again a few years ago to Jack Masters, a guy she works with at the St. Louis Zoo. She still does photography on the side, portraits mostly. When I asked if she'd ridden the Boss at Six Flags St. Louis, she surprised me and said she hadn't ridden a roller coaster in years._

_Conversation wound down after that. She said she'd seen me in the news from time to time, clearly doing well, a star in my field. I told her I was fine and thanked her for calling._

_Then it was over. I was shocked to realize I wasn't angry anymore. I find myself hoping she and her husband are happy together. Imagine that._

_You will know that forgiveness has begun when you recall those who hurt you and feel the power to wish them well – .__Lewis B. Smedes_

_Norman Cousins__ said, 'Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.__' A choice I made in pain over 25 years ago has rendered my life empty except for my work. Can my heart have been sleeping and not dead?_

_I feel as if a stone has been lifted off my chest…how have I ignored it all these years? I guess I decided it didn't exist right along with Halyn, even though I put it there myself. _

xxx

The screaming kettle finally got her attention as she read the last line. Leaving the journal face down on the couch to keep her place, Sara got up to fix another cup of tea. _"So, Halyn called to apologize. I'd have given a lot to be a fly on the wall for that one."_ she thought. Tea in hand, she settled back into the cushions and read the entry again, thinking, _"Grissom, you are a forgiving soul. I still hate her and I don't even know the woman."_

She flipped back to the January entry she hadn't finished.

xxx

_Friday, January 27, 2006 – Sara and I walked into Trace last night and caught Hodges touching up his gray with a magic marker. Sara said something like, didn't he know gray hair can be very attractive? Maybe she was talking about me._

_I've been twisting in my own wind since we began, avoiding her until I find myself on her doorstep…is it possible she doesn't hate me? Or that she might forgive me?_

_I am a wreck, ever since Halyn called I have been unsettled. I talked about my father's death with Catherine at a scene a few weeks ago…I never do that. It's like I'm being pulled back in time…re-evaluating…re-evaluating._

_Sara. What can I do to fix this mess I've made? I want to make different choices…open myself to her. But I'm still afraid. Christ, I've stared down the barrel of a gun but I can't manage to talk to the woman I love? I need help to bury the past, I think. How can I ask her to help me when I've used her like this?_

xxx

_Thursday, February 9, 2006 – Watched Heather unravel before my eyes over the last few days. Such strength, undone by a mad man. She would take no comfort from me but I did manage to save her from herself. I feel as though I've paid my debt to her, as if that is of any consequence now._

_Dropped by Sara's place after shift. She told me this morning she can't go on like we've been. I was relieved when I thought it was finally over, but she wouldn't let me go. She wants to know why. _

_How am I going to explain 30 years of mistakes? She's left a door open…if I can somehow explain myself… She said she loved me. Is there that much forgiveness in her?_

_To state the facts frankly is not to despair the future nor indict the past. The prudent heir takes careful inventory of his legacies and gives a faithful accounting to those whom he owes an obligation of trust __– John F. Kennedy_

xxx

_Sunday, February 12, 2006 – I've decided to tell Sara the entire story…about Mom and Dad, about Halyn, about deciding to live a closed life. I got out my old journals over the weekend. I'm going to let her read them…the events were fresh when I made those entries…I'm hoping she'll see the gesture as a sign that I am opening myself to her, not just spinning some tale to get myself off the hook. I have abused her trust. It's going to take a lot for her to believe me._

_I don't know what I have to offer her. I've lived entirely through my work for many years. If I can change – if she lets me back into her life – I will have to relearn things I abandoned 25 years ago. I will have to relearn how to love. Maybe she can teach me. Maybe we can learn together. Maybe._

xxx

The final entry was the day before he'd left that note in her locker. _"I've got to hand it to you, Grissom. You've surprised me,"_ she thought, smiling. _"I don't know what I expected as an explanation from you, but this wasn't it."_

Sara flipped back to the beginning of the journal, skipping around, sampling entries here and there. Apart from observations about work, many were a continuing argument with himself over whether or not he should follow his heart and start something with her. Much like the conversation she'd overheard between Grissom and Vincent Lurie several years ago, he was conscious that he'd purposely limited himself – turned away from his desire and his feelings for her. His resolve was weakening. He'd noted again and again how she'd grown, how proud he was of her for facing _her_ past, and how his reasons for staying away had more to do with fear than any real risk to his career. If she had to guess, she'd say Halyn's call had stirred the pot, pushing him to act before he was ready.

Sara closed the book and set it on the coffee table in front of her. This was a lot to process. What Grissom had shared in his journals explained much about him. He was right when he said the new journal wouldn't explain why he'd left her every time they'd made love. How could it? He didn't know why he'd done it himself. He'd known it was wrong from the start but that hadn't stopped him and she had paid the price, just as he had when Halyn left him for Frank. Apparently he'd not seen the parallels, or if he did, he hadn't written about them.

Now what?

Sara toyed briefly with the idea of making Grissom wait – a little payback would certainly be fair – but starting a new relationship like that wouldn't be any better than the mess Grissom had made. Whatever happened between them, now was the time to be straight with each other.

She pulled out her phone and punched in Grissom's number.

xxx

Grissom stood at Sara's door with a feeling of déjà vu. How many times had he come here this winter, waiting for her to let him in and take him to her bed? For those hours he'd been free, on holiday from the strict life of the mind he'd chosen for himself. _"I wonder if I'll ever have that freedom again,"_ he thought as he lifted his hand to knock.

Inside the apartment, Sara closed the book she'd been reading and answered the soft knock on her door. She opened it to find Grissom standing there looking uncertain.

"Hey, Griss. Come in," she said, stepping out of the way to let him pass.

Grissom mumbled something, probably a greeting, and entered. He stood before her, hands shoved in his pockets, not sure what to do.

Sara crossed to the kitchen and turned a burner on under her kettle. "I'm going to fix myself some tea. Want some?" she said, getting out tea bags, spoons and mugs.

Grissom followed her to the kitchen, pausing at the counter. "Yes, please," he said.

Sara pushed a basket in front of him. "Take your pick. Besides the standard I have Irish Breakfast, Earl Grey, and some herb blends. I think I have some Constant Comment in the cupboard…oh, and I have chamomile, too," she said, leaning against the island across from him. Seeing him with just his fingertips resting on the counter, looking sort of lost and certainly uncomfortable, she smiled. "Relax, Grissom. It's OK."

He looked up and asked, "It is?"

"Yeah, it is."

Relieved, he fumbled through the basket, choosing a packet of Irish Breakfast. While Sara tended to the whistling kettle, he unwrapped the tea bag and wondered what to do with the trash. Pouring for both of them, Sara chose chamomile and dropped the bag in her cup. She plucked the empty wrapper from Grissom's fingers as she slid a mug in front of him and handed him a spoon, disposing of the trash in a can out of sight under the counter. "Lemon? Sugar?"

"No, thanks," he said, swirling her tea bag in the hot water.

They tended their cups in companionable silence.

As Sara took her first sip, she said, "Let's sit."

Once they were both comfortable on her couch, Sara picked up Grissom's journal and handed it to him. "Thank you for sharing this with me. I never expected you to do anything like this."

Setting the book on the couch next to him, covering it with his hand, he said, "I didn't know how else to explain…"

Sara interrupted, "Look, Grissom. We got off to a bad start. I still think we can have something together, but we need to figure out how to be with each other…because if we can't find a way that doesn't hurt so much, it'll never last and…

"I want it to last, Sara," he said, interrupting her this time.

"OK," she smiled. Pointing to his journal with her chin, Sara said, "So, Halyn called last fall…to apologize."

Grissom looked down at the book under his fingers. "Yeah, she did."

"Why do you suppose she did that? You didn't say anything in your journal."

"I think she's in a Twelve Step program…are you familiar with the Twelve Steps?" he asked.

Sara thought a moment, "I know about AA and that it uses the Twelve Steps, but I don't know what they are."

"The Twelve Steps are a kind of road map to freeing yourself from an addiction. The first steps deal with surrender, accepting a Higher Power, and reevaluating your life.

"Step 8 is making a list of all the people you have harmed in your life with a willingness to make amends to each of them. Step 9 is actually making amends where you can, except where to do so would cause more harm. I think I was on Halyn's list," he said.

Sara considered this, "So you think she's in AA?"

"No, though I don't have any data to back that up. If I had to guess, I say she's in CoDA…Co-dependents Anonymous. Al-Anon is another possibility…you know, because of her mother."

"I was shocked when I read that she'd called you, Griss. After all these years…"

"Sara, I was stunned. I…erased her …years ago. Talking with her brought it all back. Then after she said she was sorry…and she _was_ sincerely trying to make amends…I can't explain it, but the hate was gone," he said thoughtfully.

"You're a better person than I am…I'm still mad at her."

Glancing at her, frowning and serious, he smiled, "Thank you, Sara."

"We got together just about a month after she called…" Sara said, her tone not quite a question.

"Yes. I asked if I could take you home that morning after breakfast," he said, remembering.

"What happened, Grissom? I read your journal. I know you'd been debating the issue for a long time, and once we got together you couldn't face me though you clearly wanted me. This wasn't what you wanted to do…why did you make love to me and then shut me out?"

Grissom looked at her and wanted nothing more than to run. He was embarrassed to have acted like such an ass and ashamed to have hurt her. Even though he'd thought of little else for weeks, he still had no good explanation for what he'd done.

When he didn't speak right away, Sara said, "Look, Griss, I don't expect you to have all the answers. I've done things I regret and can't explain. And I'm honored you would share your journals with me…I know you've never let anyone else in this far."

She looked over at him, guarded and uneasy, so she got up from the couch and sat on the coffee table directly in front of him, taking his hands in hers. "It's important that I know you have some understanding of what happened between us. I can't trust you otherwise. It's not your character I worry about…I trust you with my life if it's about honor or justice or safety…but I can't trust you with my heart unless I believe you can be with me, with all the give and take that requires."

Grissom caressed Sara's fingers with his thumbs, studying the movement. After a moment, he looked up at her and said, "When I seriously started to consider a relationship with you…about a year ago…I was afraid. I hadn't been with anyone since Halyn – not seriously – I couldn't bear to open the door I shut so many years ago. Even though my feelings for you wouldn't leave me alone, Sara, I couldn't make myself take the leap. I thought it was too late.

"The night Halyn called, everything changed. She freed me, in a sense. My thoughts turned immediately to you…maybe _now_ I could do it…open up and let you in.

"I thought I could that day I took you home. Making love with you was like coming home. We fit, like I always knew we would. It was wonderful and intoxicating... And then you said you loved me. I was terrified.

"I felt all the doors slamming shut again, leaving me in your arms still hungry for you but with nothing to give…and so I took more love from you and left.

"Actually letting someone in is a lot different in practice than theory, Sara. So there I was, half in and half out of something with you. There was no going back. Finally, when I came to you that last morning, I was relieved you were going to end it. I thought, _'Now I can stop,'_ but you wouldn't let me go. You wanted to know why.

"I've got no good answers, Sara. What happened…I am so sorry to have hurt you. It sounds lame to say I was afraid, but I can't come up with a reason that makes better sense."

Sara nodded as Grissom spoke…she'd come to the same conclusion herself. He'd been paralyzed by the past until Halyn called, then he'd let himself move before he was ready only to be overwhelmed by fear. "What do see happening now, Griss…for us?"

"I want to be with you, Sara," he said simply.

"Are we different than you and Halyn?" she asked.

Surprised, Grissom was quiet for awhile, sorting his thoughts. Finally, he said, "Halyn and I were great as friends. Neither of us had any idea what being in love meant, though the words were said. We were together for a long time but the relationship never grew…it was comfortable and easy. If I'd paid more attention…well, I naïvely thought comfortable was the same as good. Now I know the difference. My work is _comfortable_…but it's not enough.

"You know, as much of a mess as I've made of our relationship, we have more right now than I ever had with Halyn. Even before we made love it was more…once we were together, Sara, the floodgates were opened. I was swept along for a few hours at a time, content, until I started to think. In my journal I said I felt filled up…once the fear settled in my chest 'filled up' turned to 'pulled under' and I had to get away from you.

"I kept coming back to feel it again…full and what? _sated_…and every single time I fought like mad as soon as I felt the undertow. I felt like I was drowning…lost.

"What I didn't understand was that I've _been_ lost…and that the current I've been fighting has been bringing us together since I met you. All I have to do is surrender.

"If you're willing," he said, hopefully.

"It'll be hard sometimes. I don't think either of us has ever done this right before," she said.

"True."

"Are you afraid now?" she asked softly.

He pulled in a deep breath. "Yes."

"Me, too," she said, smiling slightly.

He nodded and smiled in answer. "OK."

"I have something for you," she said, getting up and going to her desk to retrieve a package. Sitting down on the couch next to him, she placed it in his hands. "Go ahead, open it."

Inside the box lay a large book bound in handmade paper. Dragonflies were embossed on the amber dyed cover. A length of braided twine was wrapped around a wooden button set on the front to keep the book closed. Grissom lifted it out of the box, running his fingers over the raised design. "This is beautiful, Sara."

She reached over, released the closure and flipped open the cover: a quote was written on the first page in Sara's hand:

_When you follow your bliss... doors will open where you would not have thought there would be doors, and where there wouldn't be a door for anyone else __– Joseph Campbell_

No words were spoken. Their kiss was soft…tentative at first. They'd been frantic with need for one another in the past – now was a time for gentleness. Their hearts and spirits needed a chance to flow together as their bodies had in weeks past.

When they made love it was not about losing themselves but finding each other. The passion that flared between them was not a consuming fire – it was the flame of a forge. Tempered now by sorrow, the love they shared was the anvil upon which they built something new.

For the first time, Grissom looked into her eyes afterward.

In later years Sara thought back to that moment, to the look of utter love that flooded his face, as the day they committed to one another. The look so matched her heart, enfolded her with such tenderness, she knew that for better or worse, Grissom was her future.

For people who were bad at relationships, they did remarkably well.

**FIN**


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